"I am an old man," he continued, "old in sorrows more than in years; for, with Jacob, I can truly say that 'few and evil have been my years.' Oh, Mrs. Luttrell, my dear, take warning by me; you have a little one of your own, and perhap in future years you may have sons growing up beside you, never for one instant let anything come between you and them." He paused for a moment and then went on: "When Alwyn was a little child, I simply worshipped him; his own mother begged me with tears in her eyes not to set my heart so much on him. He was delicate, and I knew what she meant, that she feared whether we should rear him; and I remember, as she said this, that I struck my hand passionately against his little cot, 'if that boy dies I shall never hold up my head again;' how well I remember that speech. Oh, my dear, the time came when I wished that I had no son, when the sharpness of the serpent's tooth entered my very vitals. God grant that you and Dr. Luttrell may never have to blush for a son's misdoings." "Dear friend, remember you are not to agitate yourself." "No, no, I will take care; but I think it does me good to talk a little; the steam must have vent, you know, and I have kept silence for so many years. All these weeks they have kept my boy from me; but they were right," his voice trembling with weakness. "I could not have borne it, neither could Alwyn. Ah, how changed and ill he looked." "Dear Mr. Gaythorne," returned Olivia, beseechingly, "indeed I must go away now, unless you will consent to rest and let me read to you a little." "Well, well, do as you like," he replied, closing his eyes, "you all tyrannise over the sick man, but perhaps I am a bit tired," and then Olivia found a book and soon had the satisfaction of seeing him sink into a peaceful sleep. What a grand face it looked with its fine chiselled features and grey peaked beard lying against the dark red cushions. Alwyn would never be such a handsome man as his father, Olivia thought. There was power and intellect on the broad forehead, the thin lips and obstinate chin were hidden under the drooping grey moustache. Olivia sat by him for some time, and then softly left the room. When Marcus had paid his evening visit he was able to assure her that her little visit had done his patient no harm. Mr. Gaythorne had stipulated that he should see his son alone, but Dr. Luttrell, who was keenly alive to the danger of any strong excitement, had decided to remain in the house during the interview. Alwyn seemed so unnerved and miserable that it was impossible to do more than give him a word of warning. "Say as little as possible, Gaythorne," he had observed as they walked across together; "if you take my advice, you will just let bygones be bygones. Don't be more emotional than you can help; remember how ill he has been, very little excites him."